


Good Will To All Men

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Christmas Lights ITV (UK TV Movie 2004)
Genre: Anger, Arguing, Ficlet, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Up, Passion, Sweet, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: A ficlet for the 2004 ITV TV movie Christmas Lights.After years of one-upmanship and trying to get one over each other with better and better Christmas lights, the tension between competitive brothers-in-law, Colin and Howard, finally comes to a head - with a confession of love and a hungry kiss. Soon, the lights would all be forgotten about...
Relationships: Colin Armstrong/Howard Scott
Kudos: 1





	Good Will To All Men

"Not so smug now, are you?" he snarled, throwing the larger man back against the brick wall with such vigour that it would not have surprised the pair to see the semi-detached ex-council property physically shake. 

It was a fair question, under the circumstances, but it was safe to say that neither of the two men currently felt too pleased with themselves, stood out here on their front drives, in the wee hours, in nothing but their smalls - Colin in his vest and pants, and Howard in his dressing gown. But the time of night wasn't what was important here. Actually it _was_ \- because, only under the cover of darkness could Howie have executed his dastardly plan - to secretly put up his gargantuan stash of Christmas lights, and make his house the most spectacular on the street. 

"Do we have to have this fight every year?" Howard sighed, the fluffy fibres of his robe scraping against the rough surface. "Every bloody year," he grunted, feeling the palms of Colin's hands flat against his chest as he was thrust backwards again. "And mind the lights'" there was a grimace as the shape of the protruding bulbs jabbed into his back.

"Always the bastard lights," the shorter chap spat, "Why does everything always have to be about the _bastard_ lights?"

"You started it," Howie said, tutting.

"No I didn't," came the childish response.

"Yeah, you did. Turning even the most innocent thing into a competition - into an agenda. You see things that aren't there. You can't even see what _is_ there. Last year, your head was shoved so far up your arse, you couldn't even see that I was trying to save _your_ job - trying to do _you_ a favour."

Armstrong temporarily loosened his grip on Scott's clothing, still gently holding it, and lowered his head - thoughtfully running a thumb over the towelling material.

"And what would you rather talk about, Col? Your _jealousy_? How you didn't get the job when I did? The extra cash? My company car?" Howie glowered at him, his expression quickly turning from disappointment to disgust - but his emotions would soon descend into something else when Colin's grip on the nightwear garment became firmer and more purposeful, forcing Howard to slightly stumble.

"I don't have to worry about any of that," there was a bitterness to his note, "I know you've _always_ wanted to be like me." His eyes flickered downwards for a beat, and then darted back upwards to meet with Howard's - and his speech slowly changed in tone, "In fact, sometimes I think it's _me_ you've always wanted."

Initially, Scott snorted with derision, and looked away, shaking his head. By the time he could bring himself to look at Armstrong again, the aggressor was not staring at him, but rather the exterior of the house; he was, for a moment, completely mesmerised by the awesome sight of hundreds of twinkling, sparkling lights, like jewels - in the shape of stars, holly leaves, bells and other festive patterns. This really meant so much to Col, he realised; the delivery driver had worked tirelessly to be able to say that he was the best at something. But Howard knew that Colin was already the best at something - the best at being a friend; the best at being a great brother-in-law. And that their lifelong friendship meant more to him than the lights ever could.

Howie's fingers had found themselves creeping beneath Colin's undershirt, sinking into the soft brown curls of hair. "What if you're right?" a North-Eastern accent whispered hoarsely. On this occasion, Scott was pushed back against the brick wall - though not in fury, but in passion - hot lips and an unshaven jaw writhing against his with desperation. "Let's not fight," he managed to blurt, in-between kisses.

"The house does look wonderful," Armstrong murmured, whilst nuzzling his ear.

"Yours too," the company boss could barely form words; his dressing gown had flapped open in the cold winter breeze - not that either of them had any concept of how freezing it actually was - and Colin's grasp had detected the hard swelling forming in his pyjamas. "Are-- Are Jackie and the kids definitely asleep?" he stuttered, his ability to speak now completely thrown by the gorgeous Colin's expert touch - with one of his hands tugging at the drawstring on his trousers, and the other squeezing whatever love handles he could get a hold of.

"Spark out, mate - I think," came a sly grin; Howard dragged him sharply forwards by the material of his boxer shorts, and Colin giggled at his friend's sudden outburst of impatience. After all of these years of feeling upset and angry with one another over absolutely nothing at all, Col found himself - once again - melting over Howie's adorable, dopey, lop-sided smile. And hoping that the animatronic novelty garden Santa Claus that they kept repeatedly and accidentally crashing into, as they continued to kiss and fumble, would stay quiet and keep the all-too loud 'ho ho ho' noises at bay - at least for a _little_ while longer.


End file.
